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Its all bad now man, its all bad it's all fucked up now Yeah ha ha, new shit, hey yo I just want the whole world to know: That I did not start this, but I will finish it

Comin up it never mattered was color you was If you could spit then you could spit, thats it, thats what it was Back when, motherfuckers was straight back packin Cypherin, fightin for life in this rap for the mic to get past and you psyched and you gasped and you hyped cuz you last and you might whoop some ass If you lost then you lost shake hands like a man and you swallowed it, when the unsigned hype column at The Source was like, the only source of light When the mics used to mean somethin, a four was like you were the shit, now its like the least you get three and a half now just means you a peice of shit four and a half or five, means you Biggie, Jigga, Nas, or Benzino shit I don't eben think you realize you playin with motherfuckers lives, I done watched Dre get fucked on The Chronic, probably cuz I was on it Now you fucked me outta my mics twice I let it slide I said I wouldnt hold my fuckin breath to get a five Shit I was right, I'da fuckin died already tryin I swear to God I never lie I bet thats why you let that bitch give me that bullshit review I sat and took it, I ain't look at the shit we knew You'd probly try to fuck us with Obie and 50 too {(::haach-poo::)}Fuck a relationship we through No more Source with street credit, them days is dead Ray's got A-Ks to Dave May's head Every issue there's an eight page Made Men spread Will somebody please tell whoever braids his head That I am not afraid, hes just a fuckin waste of lead on my pencil, for me to write some shit this simple So listen closely, as I break it down and proceed This old Gs bout to get smoked like rolled weed You don't know me or my motherfuckin mother you motherfuckin punk Put me on your fuckin cover just sell your little sell out mag I ain't mad I feel bad, heres an ad, heres a poster of Ray-Ray and his dad You wanna talk about some shit that you dont know about? ya Lets talk about how your puttin you own son out there And to try to eat off him, cuz you missed your boat Your never gonna float bitch you're just too old No wonder you're sore now, lordy ya board now I'm pushin thirty you kickin fourty's door down Bitch this is war now, and you'll never beat me all you do is cheat me out of quotables but you know that you'll always see me on your TV Cuz you gotta stay up till three in the mornin To see your video played once on BET So he-he-he who has the last laugh? Aftermath ya so on behalf on our whole staff kiss our ass-hole cracks we'll never fold or hold back Just know that Benzinos wack no matter how many times I say he's stan, hell never blow jack Your better off tryin to bring R-S-O back Look at your track record thats how far it goes back Its extortion and Ray owns a prportion so half of the staff up there is fresh outta jail from boston Bullyin and bossin, caged like a slave they've completely brainwashed him And forced him to stay locked in his own office afraid of the softest fakest, wannabe gangster in New York And its pitiful, cuz I never woulda said shit to you if you'd kept your mouth shut Bitch now what? hit it clue, spit it slay New shit, exclusive yo lantern, yo whoo kidYou know what to do with this: use it I'm through, this is stupid, I cant believe I stooped to this bullshit to do this...